The Champion Point

Six long years had passed since the Great War had come to an end, but the echoes of it was fresh in Anlon Walsh’s mind. It was the summer of 1924 and Anlon Walsh at thirty seven years of age already felt old. His sleep would often be disturbed recalling various episodes from the war of which he had been a miniscule part, to say the least. At that time he had been in London and was responsible for handling the horses of senior British officers for their travel to the various counties and villages. After all, that’s what he had been trained for since his childhood. With no suitable alternative left for him, he became a horse trainer and a stableman who took care of the daily routines at the stables on the outskirts of London. After the war, he had returned to his village in Ireland and got himself busy carrying on his horse training routines at a local stable.

When his parents named him Anlon, they had dreamt that one day their only child would become a successful individual, after all that was what the word “Anlon” meant; Champion. By the time Anlon turned twenty-one, his parents had realized that the name was a great misfire and their son was nowhere a Champion and neither did aim to become one. Taking training from his father, Anlon did become a great horse trainer and a professional stableman. Though the impact of the Great War was felt massively until five years after its conclusion, by the time 1924 arrived, Ireland had put the war behind and looked into the future.

Looking back at his life, born in the Westmeath County of Ireland, Anlon resided with his parents in a quiet little village named Castlepollard that was located to the north of the county. Since child hood, Anlon had been the curious kind.  For long, he would go asking every villager about the legend behind the name of the village, and one fine evening, he was finally enlightened by a very senior inhabitant that the name came from a castle or a fortified manor built by the English in the early seventeenth century. However, this was not the only topic that made Anlon a Curious boy.

Castlepollard had two stables since inception that were taken care by Anlon’s father. Since his childhood, Anlon would routinely accompany his father to the stable and observe the daily routines that would inspire him to take over the responsibility someday. So, when Anlon turned twenty one, and as he had hoped, the responsibility was shifted to him. By now Anlon had turned into a handsome tall boy with his blond hair falling over his broad shoulders. His brown eyes were a replica of his mother’s eyes. His handsomeness was a constant topic of discussion within the female circles of the village. Everything seemed to go as planned for Anlon. However, as destiny had planned and by the time he had turned twenty four, the Great War had begun and Anlon was assigned to London to help the British officers with their horses. He would routinely accompany the officers from one county to another during the war taking care of their horses. These experiences had turned him into a tough gentleman that was a different version from the cute boy that he had been in his early years.

By the time Anlon came back to take care of the Village stables, he was thirty. It was only during those years when Castlepollard had started to have an annual fair that took place on a very big ground located on the east side of the village. The fair was the annual extravaganza where in traders from the nearby villages would put up stalls to sell daily routine items. It was a way of increasing the flow of money in between the various counties. Apart from stalls and games, there was of course one sport that could not have been done away with. Steeplechase.

In 1919, just one year after the war had ended, the first race of Steeplechase was conducted in the village and the village was represented none other than by Anlon Walsh. Anlon had initially refused to be part of the sport as he considered himself only a horse trainer but the local men would hear nothing and had almost forced him to take part in the sport representing their village “ I am not a Jockey,” he would try to make the villagers understand but they would be adamant on their decision. So, one fine evening, Anlon gave up and agreed to their demands.

Anlon had a fair idea about what the sport of Steeplechase was. A distance horserace in which competitors are required to jump fence and ditch obstacles. The only difference in case of Ireland was that, here the obstacles were large and fixed. Finally, in 1919, Anlon represented the village of Castlepollard in the local steeplechase sport and came last and lost. The other players who represented the nearby villages were regulars at the sport that made things a bit difficult for Anlon.

This was the case for the next five years until 1924, when Anlon had promised himself that he would win the race that year at any cost. He was thirty seven, unmarried and both his parents had passed way in the period in between since the first race. That year, it was the sixth year of the Steeplechase race of the village fair and the villagers still supported Anlon for representing them, not that they had any other choice as Anlon was the only one in the village who was trained to handle a horse.

Anlon made a detailed study of all the horses that were available for him. He decided that he would go for a fresh new horse that year and his eyes fell on an alert, slender limbed and a glossy horse. Casey was her name. He had worked with Casey in his stable and the owner was happy that he chose Casey. One month prior to the race, he started to train her. He arranged for a fitting saddle to keep on top of the body of the horse for a good grip and a comfortable seat and a bridle that didn’t irritate the horse. He trained the horse with the obstacles of the same height and same size as he had seen all those years during the race. Casey looked beautiful while she trained but was she ready for the race and more importantly did she want to race? Anlon thought.

So when the race day finally arrived, Anlon was nervous and it seemed to him that even Casey was nervous too. The fair had grown in size and money over the years and that year the prize money had almost tripled. Anlon didn’t care for the money. His only motive was to win the race. That afternoon, at the first sounds of the whistle, Anlon patted Casey and they were on their way. The large crowd from various villages that had gathered around, clapped and cheered loudly. Anlon for the first time was among the first three and Casey too was very alert and fast. As the local villagers observed that Anlon was continuously among the first three out of the total of ten, they sensed that perhaps Anlon would make their village proud that day.

Within the next thirty minutes, Anlon reached the second spot. Casey was trained very well as she was very alert with all the obstacles. It was only when the last two obstacles were pending, the villagers observed that Anlon abruptly fell upon the horse and his upper body rested on the neck of the horse. To the eye it seemed Anlon was whispering something to Casey in her ears. As everyone looked on in confusion towards the finish point, Casey finally jumped the last obstacle and with that she won the race for the village of Castlepollard. There was a loud cheer from the crowd present. All the local villagers ran towards the finish point and gathered around the horse. While all of the gathered villagers were cheering aloud, one of the locals observed that Anlon still stayed on the horse and didn’t seem to move. His body remained on the top of the horse. Another one of the locals called him, “Hey Anlon, you all right?” There was no reply. Suddenly one of them shook his still leg, and the body of Anlon tumbled down as the villagers tried to get hold of it.

The local doctor was immediately called upon who had been on a stand by all through the race. After checking the routines, the doctor looked towards the villagers and nodded in negative. “He is no more. Got a heart attack, it seems. Perhaps due to anxiety and over excitement” Everyone present at the spot had gone mum.

The winning horse, Casey, still stood there looking at Anlon’s body and drops of tears rolled down her eyes. Perhaps, she had known about it in between the race itself when Anlon fell upon her. The villagers helped to get the lifeless body on to a wooden stretcher and carried it outside the race ground. Inside the ground, the annual fair authorities got into a huddle and discussed the outcome. It was indeed a never before experienced situation.  When Casey won the race, Anlon was already dead and his body was on top of her. So, technically, a dead Anlon had won the race. Casey was declared the winner and the prizemoney was then distributed among the villagers in remembrance of Anlon Walsh. Irony couldn’t have been more real as Anlon Walsh finally became a Champion.

Castlepollard never again carried out a Steeplechase competition and Casey never again ran a race in her entire lifetime. Over the years, locals often observed that one glossy horse would often come over at the place where the race used to take place in the village. Some say that it was Casey.

Few years later, the villagers built a statue of a man and a horse at the main circle of the village and named it as “The Champion Point”.

On the other side of the road

 

There was hardly anything grandeur in the way Greguska Novak lived his life. It was just last month when he had turned twenty four. Yes, it was a lonely birthday because his parents had long ago left for their heavenly abode leaving their only son alone in this world. He had been seventeen at that time. The past seven years had been all about completing his education and then learning the ropes of the only thing that his parents had left for him. Farming. Greguska was the only young man in the entire Moravia region who had got into farming without actually knowing anything about it. He was helped by his uncle who was indebted to the Novak family for helping him during his bad times. Moravia region that occupied most of the eastern part of Czechoslovakia was the only place on the earth that Greguska had ever known. For him, it was the world and nothing existed beyond its boundaries.

The Moravia region that meant “Morava” in local Czechoslovakian terms was named after the principal river Morava that passed through the region. Generations of the Novak family had grown up in this region and the house in which Greguska lived was indeed an ancestral one, passed from one generation to another. The land which the Novak family owned was located just behind the house. So, it was just a two minute walk for Greguska during day time. For him, life rotated in between his; academics, farming and his house.  Though Greguska was a fairly quick learner, it had taken several months for him to actually get the essence of the local faming business, but it turned out all good and profitable for him.

Greguska Novak was an average looking healthy young man. He had curly hair and a French beard, which he thought made him look manlier. He had come to know about it when he had visited a local saloon for a haircut and he instantly liked it. He left no time wasted in adopting the style. His height was an average one and his uncle was of the opinion that he had got his father’s looks and mother’s calm behavior. Often at nights, lying down on his cot, and looking out into the stars spread all over the night sky, he would think over about his parents. Did he really look like his father? He would check it with one of the older photos of his father.

By the time the extremely chilly winter of 1991 arrived, Greguska had completed his academics and engaged himself into full time farming with the help of his uncle. His uncle had given him a simple advice that he should put a fresh farm shop for selling his produce instead of going through the middlemen. Greguska never wasted time in adopting great advice and so he opened a fresh farm shop through which he sold his own produce. Everything had fallen into place and life was going as usual and in the hope for something good for the future when thunderstorm struck Greguska’s life. The thunderstorm was in the form of a smile, an infectious smile which he couldn’t take his eyes off and when he did, his eyes fell upon the most beautiful pair of eyes he had ever looked into. He could look back into his entire life span and tell that he had never felt before what he felt at that moment. The girl looked towards him and considered him really weird.

“Hello,”

“Please take the money and hand over the packet of potatoes.”

Greguska was brought back into reality with those words.

“Sure,”

He was nervous and he could feel a pang of excitement in his belly.

“Oh gosh, is this it? This is what everyone refers to as love,” he uttered to himself while the girl looked irritated.

He handed over the packet and collected the money from her.

“Never seen you around. New?” he asked inquiringly.

“Yes, just shifted two days ago. My family lives on the other side of the road.”

Greguska was quick to look towards the road ahead and then to the first house on the other side. He had a childlike smile on his face.

“Great.” He commented excitedly.

“I am Greguska Novak. I live at the house behind this shop.”

The girl looked at him for a second. He seemed a decent enough guy to her. Just an over excited one though, she thought.

“I am Darina. Darina Bruzek.”

They both smiled and Darina left. He looked at her as she crossed the road and entered the first house.

 It was the first night since a long time when sleep had deserted Greguska. Every time he opened up his eyes, the only face that appeared was that of Darina. He got up and stood in front of the only mirror in the room. He switched on the lights and looked at the mirror. He had a shy smile. He had never before felt anything like what he felt at that moment. In fact, it was only for the first time that he had spoken to a girl outside his family which currently included only his aunt.

For the next two weeks, Greguska would wait for Darina to come to his fresh farm shop. He specially farmed some great potatoes for her. But there was no sign of her. His heart would often tell him to cross the road and knock on the door, but his mind would always control him. Over the next one month, in between the fights between his heart and his mind, he waited eagerly for a glimpse of her. 1991 became 1992 and on the first day of the New Year, he finally had a glimpse of her and she looked extremely gorgeous to him.

She was taller than Greguska. Her hair fell over her shoulders and could be mapped upto her waist. That day she was wearing a long black skirt and a red shirt made of a simple material of cotton. Greguska observed that she was comfortable in her attire and it went fine with her personality. He himself would often be seen in a white shirt with wide sleeves and a cream or brown cotton trouser as it was routine for the Czechoslovakians to have a western style of dressing.

Greguska immediately thought of wishing her a new year. There was no one at the fresh farm shop and Darina was walking pass the road in front. He looked around and then put on his English style cap and hurried towards her. As he reached near her, she saw him and stopped.

It was difficult for both of them to actually consider themselves as acquaintances. They had met only once. Both of them wondered in their own minds that they were indeed strangers, and in Czechoslovakia there was a standard routine how strangers met. The strangers would shake hands and both would say their last names and then exchange greetings. However, there was a technical problem in case of Greguska and Darina. One was a male and the other one a female and the male had to wait for the female to hold her hand out first. Both of them stood near the road while some vehicles passed them. There was a cool breeze that blew around. Darina had to manage her hair. Greguska just couldn’t move his eyes off her face which looked enigmatic. She somehow arranged her hair, and then held her purse on to the other hand and held her right hand out. Greguska smiled, and shook hands and wished her a new year. Greguska was unaware that while he was busy with his romantic endeavours, two school boys were busy enjoying some sweet potatoes at his fresh farm shop. Once Darina walked away with her gorgeous smile, Greguska looked around and saw the two boys.

“Hey, you two.” He ran towards the shop taking care of his cap which had almost flown away in the breeze. Darina looked back and laughed out.

Darina Bruzek was a twenty two year old girl who lived with her parents. Her mother was a traditional home maker and father worked in a nearby factory. The industrial job of his was more than enough for them to have a reasonably good life. Though the salary was not extremely high, but was enough for the Bruzek family of three to have a comfortable life. Darina was on the verge of completing her education and she aspired to be a school teacher after her studies. Her life was going normal until she had met Greguska. He seemed cute and sweet to her and also a bit weird. However, he didn’t come across as someone manipulative to her. Often, she looked at his shop from the window of her room. She had guessed that perhaps Greguska was also interested in her as she had caught him looking at her house end number of times.

Over the next few months, it was routine for both to meet on the road when she would often pass by. Though, now they were not strangers, but they hardly spoke anything other than wishing each other. She had assumed that one day soon, Greguska would confess his feelings for her.  Festivals passed by, weekends got over, seasons changed but both of them were stuck in the same status by the time the Christmas of 1992 arrived.  Some days had passed by and he didn’t see Darina which made him a worried man. Finally that night he had decided that on the first day of the New Year, he would confess his feelings for her and would propose her for marriage.

The next five days were like five long years. It was months since he had read any news and as a result wasn’t aware of anything happening in his country, not that he was interested in any. On 31^st December 1992, he waited eagerly at his fresh farm shop. He had observed that Darina’s house was decorated in lights. There were some guests at her house. It was only ten thirty in the night and another one and half hour was left to go for the next year to arrive. At the stroke of twelve, he had planned to walk up to the road, cross it and then go to Darina’s house and propose her.

He had got himself a new suit from the local shop. On the white cotton shirt, the dark blue suit made him look good and gave him the required confidence. He took a deep breath as it was only five minutes to twelve and to New Year also. As he looked at his watch, he could see a cluster of vehicles approaching the road. As they came near, he could identify those as the Army Vehicles. There were about seven to eight ones. Once they halted, groups of army men dropped out from the vehicles. Greguska couldn’t understand the commotion. Listening to the commotion, people from the neighbourhood also walked out and looked on. Greguska could see Darina’s parents also out of their house. There was no sign of Darina, though.

The soldiers carried barbed wires with them and after very five inch they inserted a wooden stick on the ground that lay on the other side of road, towards Darina’s side. The locals tried to intervene but were told to hold their grounds. Finally when the fencing was done and completed, the soldiers started to get into their vehicles back. One general rank commander stepped out. Greguska was the first one to get to his side.

“Sir, what’s the matter here? Why these fences?” Greguska had almost ignored the seniority of the officer. The officer looked at him with a smile.

“Boy, you seem worried. Don’t worry, nothing to hurt anyone.” The officer said.

Greguska looked him in his yes. The officer finally gave up.

“Okay. Listen boy. From 1^st January 1993, that is from now on, Czechoslovakia has been separated into two countries, Czech Republic and Slovak Republic. You are standing in Czech Republic and those on other side are in Slovak Republic.” The general further explained that the country was demerged into two nations with effect from midnight.

Greguska was startled. He watched one of the soldiers putting up a Slovak Republic board on the fence towards Darina's side.

There was a large commotion of public on Darina’s side filled with confusion and uncertainty about the future in their eyes. People started shouting and yelling.

The first five minutes of 1993 had taken away Greguska’s first love. As the soldiers left, Greguska looked at Darina who now stood on the other side of the fence.

He looked in her eyes and reflected back on why he had to wait so long to confess to her. Within a matter of minutes, Greguska’s girl on the other side of the road became a girl on the other side of the international border.